Day: June 15, 2022

This absurd TikTok fantasy reminds me of an actual, real-life infidelity episode. Or so I was told by a friend of Gerry Seitz, a Connecticut guy I knew and palled around with way back when. Gerry didn’t pass it along first-hand, but I believed the story then and I believe it now. (Partly because I want to believe it, I suppose.). True or false, I’ve never forgotten it.

It happened in the early to mid ’70s, somewhere in Southern Florida (Ft. Lauderdale, Hollywood, Boca Raton). A college grad, Seitz was working part-time in construction, and he was having an affair with the extremely hot wife of a co-worker (or a friend of a co-worker, something like that).

No dates, no motel assignations — Gerry would occasionally visit the unemployed wife at home around lunch hour or the early afternoon, and then, just to be safe, skedaddle around 3 or 4 pm. Hubby was usually home by 6 or 6:30 pm.

You know how this goes. Gerry and the wife were in bed around 3 pm when they heard the sound of a car outside, the jingle of keys, the front door opening, etc. It happened too quickly for Gerry to manage an escape. He tossed his clothes and footwear under the bed and slipped buck naked into the bedroom closet.

The husband walks in, a bit surprised to find his wife under the covers with (what is that?) a certain aroma in the air. She says something about wanting to take a shower or a sudden urge to take a nap…whatever comes to mind. Turned-on hubby gets flirty and handsy and takes off his T-shirt. The guilt-stricken wife feels she has no choice but to respond.

Gerry, listening from the closet, is quietly freaking. He figures it would have been one thing if the husband had walked in on him and the wife — an alarming trauma that probably would have turned violent. But the husband’s reaction would be much more ferocious, Gerry was imagining, if he discovers Gerry in the closet after he and the wife have had sex. The guy might shoot him if that happens.

Gerry is weighing the odds, sweating it out and struggling to stay as silent as possible. Before the husband and wife start to actually do it, Gerry decides he can’t stand the tension and opens the closet door and announces himself, dangling schlong and all…”I’m really sorry and I’m leaving.” Husband freaks, strong words, slaps and fisticuffs. But at least Gerry didn’t get shot.

Posted on 12.24.17: Remember those dim-bulb Academy members who harangued Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio after that first Wolf of Wall Street Academy screening because they didn’t get the satirical thrust behind all the coarse vulgarity (which was delivered both literally and within “quotes”)? And how Scorsese and DiCaprio had to attend screening after screening and patiently explain that they were depicting the louche adventures of Jordan Belfort and his cronies to make a point about the character of the buccaneers who have fleeced this country and will definitely fleece again? Remember the brief shining moment of Hope Holiday

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The object of justified feminist scorn on The Dick Cavett Show so many decades ago was George Gilder, a Republican speechwriter who had written a Ripon Societys piece that defended President Richard Nixon’s veto of a day-care bill that had been sponsored by Senators Walter Mondale and Jacob Javits. He was fired as editor as a result. To defend himself, he appeared on Firing Line and then the Cavett show. Robert Shaw delivered the fatal stab wound.

Friendo: “So prescient, a discussion you could have today…but Robert Shaw would be needed.”

This is several weeks late, but there’s a reason I decided against watching One Perfect Shot, a six-episode HBO Max series hosted by Ava DuVernay.

The director-friendly doc focuses on ambitious, well-executed shots in six films, shots that the producers believe are worthy of special praise. They’re from Jon Chu‘s Crazy Rich Asians (’18), Michael Mann‘s Heat (’95), Patty Jenkins‘ Wonder Woman (’17), Malcolm Lee‘s Girls Trip (’17), Kasi Lemmons‘ Harriet (’19) and Aaron Sorkin‘s The Trial of the Chicago 7 (’20).

The problem, obviously, is that only two of these warrant in-depth study — Heat and Chicago 7.

The other four were chosen for the usual inclusive woke-Hollywood reasons…tributing black artists who are pals with DuVernay, saluting #MeToo progressivism. Girls Trip was mildly enjoyable fun but forget any notions of it containing a perfect shot. Everyone regards Harriet as a negligible thing — second-rate, historically inauthentic, flat-out terrible in some respects. Wonder Woman is a decent enough superhero flick and Jenkins did a fine job for the most part (it’s way better than Wonder Woman 1984), but it’s not my idea of top-tier and certainly isn’t even close to Heat‘s level. And Crazy Rich Asians is appalling…a synthetic wealth-porn romcom.

It’s actually an insult to Mann and Sorkin that their films (especially Mann’s) have been lumped in with the riff-raff.